![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
The side effects of sink or swim
Jan. 24th, 2007 11:20 pmNail biting has increased tenfold since I started researching agents and publishers and queries and the like. Huh.
There is now an edge of desperation in me every time I go to revise the novel. Every single sentence reads like a testimony to my utter incompetence as a writer.
I swear, this novel seemed like a really good idea when I started it. In my head, it was full of awesome and it rocked and I loved everyone in it and I completely halted doing other things because my brain just screamed, "This is the novel you absolutely have to write."
Except, I can't say that in a query. I can't write the query that actually reflects what I want to say which is:
Dear Agent,
This novel is freaking awesome. It is full of queer and magic and Greek gods are bitchslapping each other all over the creation, wackiness is ensuing. There's even a crazy Southern lady who read deer entrails and everyone totally hearted that scene and we all love crazy Southern ladies, right? RIGHT? And people will goddamn well buy it because the whole point of the story is that no matter who you are, you fit somewhere in this novel and that magic isn't any prettier than the real world and sometimes it's uglier and it is better than half the trash that got published last year because I read that trash and I know in the cockles of my withered, battered soul that it is better than that. SO FOR THE LOVE OF HOWLER MONKEYS YOU STUPID BETCH JUST HELP ME GET IT PUBLISHED ALREADY.
Love and Promises of 15% of All My Sexual Favors If You Help Me,
Me
I've heard the crazy approach doesn't really work, though. So I'm going to stick with my regularly scheduled query letter. The polite one with less words written in all caps.
Time to get some clear nailpolish to help my nails grow back. Hell if I can do anything about the rest of it.
All my homework bears out one thing: all you can do is submit in the same way you cook spaghetti. Keep throwing things against the wall until something sticks. Methods of trajectory, aim, and angle may vary - but basically: Keep chucking. Either something will stick or you'll die before you get to eat dinner. Either way.
There is now an edge of desperation in me every time I go to revise the novel. Every single sentence reads like a testimony to my utter incompetence as a writer.
I swear, this novel seemed like a really good idea when I started it. In my head, it was full of awesome and it rocked and I loved everyone in it and I completely halted doing other things because my brain just screamed, "This is the novel you absolutely have to write."
Except, I can't say that in a query. I can't write the query that actually reflects what I want to say which is:
Dear Agent,
This novel is freaking awesome. It is full of queer and magic and Greek gods are bitchslapping each other all over the creation, wackiness is ensuing. There's even a crazy Southern lady who read deer entrails and everyone totally hearted that scene and we all love crazy Southern ladies, right? RIGHT? And people will goddamn well buy it because the whole point of the story is that no matter who you are, you fit somewhere in this novel and that magic isn't any prettier than the real world and sometimes it's uglier and it is better than half the trash that got published last year because I read that trash and I know in the cockles of my withered, battered soul that it is better than that. SO FOR THE LOVE OF HOWLER MONKEYS YOU STUPID BETCH JUST HELP ME GET IT PUBLISHED ALREADY.
Love and Promises of 15% of All My Sexual Favors If You Help Me,
Me
I've heard the crazy approach doesn't really work, though. So I'm going to stick with my regularly scheduled query letter. The polite one with less words written in all caps.
Time to get some clear nailpolish to help my nails grow back. Hell if I can do anything about the rest of it.
All my homework bears out one thing: all you can do is submit in the same way you cook spaghetti. Keep throwing things against the wall until something sticks. Methods of trajectory, aim, and angle may vary - but basically: Keep chucking. Either something will stick or you'll die before you get to eat dinner. Either way.
